Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Djibouti and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Carl Craig to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Yellowson,
kango's stein massive,
Charles Mingus,
Erykah Badu,
KRS-One,
The Five Americans,
Cameo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Newcleus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Marine Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Khruangbin,
Underground Resistance,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Residents,
Maurizio,
The Zeros,
Tomorrow,
The Moody Blues,
ABBA,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deadbeat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Index,
Oblivians,
Judy Mowatt,
Morten Harket,
Peter & Gordon,
Prince Buster,
Slick Rick,
Joensuu 1685,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
The Remains,
Todd Rundgren,
Icehouse,
Barry Ungar,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Selecter,
Janne Schatter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ken Boothe,
Crooked Eye,
Nico,
Monks,
Joe Smooth,
Silicon Teens,
Anakelly,
Sight & Sound,
Ice-T,
Mo-Dettes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fuzztones,
Interpol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Dirtbombs,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.